


The Strength of the Wolf is the Pack

by nomeancity



Category: Iskryne Series - Elizabeth Bear & Sarah Monette
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28144737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomeancity/pseuds/nomeancity
Summary: When Brokkolfr saw the wolfsprechend of Othinnsaesc, he went down on his knees before him and wept with shame that that had been all he had been able to do.Brokkolfr still doesn't believe he did enough. Kari tries to help.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	The Strength of the Wolf is the Pack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Varanu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varanu/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, Varanu! I hope you enjoy the fic - Brokkolfr and Kari are one of my favourite friendships in the Iskryne series, too. :)

Brokkolfr woke to the howl of danger in the pack-sense, like the shock of falling into cold water, and was all the way to his feet and half way into his boots before he realised that wolves were actually howling in full voice outside the dormitory. He staggered as he jammed a heel down to fully seat a boot, grabbing for his axe (for no wolfcarl slept without a weapon near to hand, in these times) with one hand and reaching to shake Ulfhethinn’s shoulder with the other. Amma and Ulfhethinn’s brother, Arne, were creatures of gleaming fangs and bristling hackles, straining for the dormitory door, to his sleep-blurred eyes. The torrent of rage pouring from his gentle sister made Brokkolfr feel that this must be a nightmare - then he staggered again, as the floor seemed to twist and shake beneath his feet and surely, _surely_ , he was dreaming all this… Ulfhethinn grabbed his arm with a curse and Brokkolfr snatched, just as instinctively, for the pack-sense, because wolves couldn’t be fooled by men’s nightmares - but the pack-sense took his nightmare and threw it back at him a hundredfold.

 _Trolls! Armed trolls in the wolfheall, choking smoke, smell of blood, death in the pack…_ All that rode on Amma’s touch with a furious desire to _fight, protect the heall, kill the intruders!_ Brokkolfr wrenched himself back before he could fall too far into his sister’s anger. _I have to be the one with a plan, oh gods…_ “Trolls, there are trolls in the heall,” he managed to get out, realising as he took a gasping breath that he could taste the smoke in his own mouth now, as well as through Amma’s senses. “We’ve got to go out the door fighting.”

“God of wolves! How can they be _here_?” Ulfhethinn didn’t wait for an answer, was already moving, shoulder to shoulder with him, as Amma and Arne surged ahead to go out below the swing of their axes, and all Brokkolfr could think was _Yes, Othinn, god of wolves, look on us kindly now…_

Brokkolfr wrenched open the door and Amma and Arne sprang through, snarling like fiends. Arne hamstrung a troll with its back to them and Amma ran, almost more cat than wolf, straight up its back as it fell. He felt her triumph as she found its jugular, but any idea of victory was short-lived. There were trolls everywhere he looked, with wolves and wolfcarls fighting them in every corner of the heall - and, worse, more trolls emerging from a twisted, _wrong_ -looking hole in the floor by the main door. _That’s why the floor keeps shaking_. He thought, inanely, _it’s going to be really hard to fix that..._

At his side, Ulfhethinn yelled and leapt to parry an axe blow - the trolls had seen them. Arne sprang, snapping, to guard his brother’s flank and Brokkolfr abruptly realised that they would shortly be surrounded - cut off, as were the other knots of werthreatbrothers he could see around the heall. The pack-sense that had woken him was alive with rage and bloodlust, but there was no-one in control of it, no-one guiding the pack to fight as one. _Your job, acting-wolfsprechend, bitch’s brother! What, will you tell Fastulfr he left you in charge and you failed him?_ He stepped forward, gutting the troll that Amma was fighting and shouted to her aloud and in the pack-sense. “Sister!” _Rally the pack, Amma, call them together! Reach for them!_ He took a deep breath and found a volume and tone he had not known he had, “To me, Othinnsaesc! Rally to me now! For Hilde!” As he named their absent konigenwolf, he felt Amma reach out and the pack-sense snapped into alignment, as though the smoke in the wolfheall cleared and he could see everything. He could taste the trellblood in every wolf’s mouth, feel their battle-fury and their united desire to _protect our territory, protect the heall!_ For a moment, he could almost have sworn he felt an answering flash of _fight_ from Hilde herself, miles away to the north… Then Amma howled, and he heard an answering chorus of snarls from around the heall, and he _felt_ every wolf in Othinnsaesc leap forward anew and sink their teeth into troll flesh.

Brokkolfr heard Ulfhethinn laugh wildly at his side and bared his teeth in a battle-grin as he helped Amma dispatch the next troll. Suddenly, there were other wolfcarls on either side of them, making a square with their wolves leaping to cover their brothers’ open flanks. He felt a surge of elation - _yes, we will beat them back! We can clear the heall! -_ and wielded his axe with a strength he had not known he possessed.

Yet there were still trolls between them and the rest of the pack. They fought to break through, to join up with their threatbrothers - but there were always more trolls.

He felt Amma reach for the pack-sense again and again, calling the wolves, encouraging them, showing them that she fought on - _defending the heall_ \- but he could also feel her growing fear, hidden from the rest of the pack. _Too many trolls._

He felt it when a wolf died, felt the sudden hole in the pack-sense, felt Amma’s grief and renewed anger. He couldn’t tell who it was - Amma was no konigenwolf - but he knew someone was gone - then another, and another… He felt his face wet with tears as well as blood, he heard Ulfhethinn’s breath sob in his throat. He stumbled and went down on one knee, and for a moment he thought he saw his deathstroke about to fall as the troll to his right raised its axe. He heard Amma’s rising yowl - then the older wolfcarl on his right clove the troll’s helm with a single stroke. _Aurulf, Troeli’s brother,_ his dazed mind supplied as his threatbrother grimly pulled him to his feet. He reached automatically for Amma to reassure her - _I’m safe, sister_ \- and felt her desperation, still hidden from the rest of the pack. A wolf’s assessment, uncoloured by men’s ideas of glory: they were too few and the trolls too many. _Save the pack. Flee. Save the cubs._

 _Save the cubs._ Amma, his gentle sister, loved every cub - of course, she would think of the cubs now, even snarling and covered from nose to tail in trellblood. He parried a blow and slew the troll on the backstroke. _Save the cubs._ There were cubs in the heall, red Yrsa’s litter - oh gods, she had let the tithe boys touch them only a few days ago, did they even live yet? _Yes_. He felt Amma’s definitiveness, even through her fear and anger. _The cubs are alive, save the cubs._ He choked on smoke and realised, with a curious numbness, that maybe that was all they could do. All they could save from this mess. The wolfheall was burning around them. There was no way they could defend it, even if they could somehow drive the trolls back.

He shouted to Aurulf and Ulfhethinn, “We have to make a break for it!” Ulfhethinn’s glance back at him was wide-eyed and horrified, and Arne whined, and he could have wept for Amma’s strength in keeping her despair from breaking the rest of the pack.

Aurulf just nodded grimly, with one quick pat to his brother’s shoulder. “Out through the side door, then. As many as we can gather.”

Brokkolfr shook his head and pushed it to them in the pack-sense. _Run, yes, but first we get the cubs!_ The denning room was near the side door. They just had to fight their way to it. Just. He saw Aurulf’s shrug and nod of assent. He reached for Amma as steadily as he could. _Yes, sister. Call the pack - we’re going to save the cubs._

He felt Amma uncoil into the pack-sense, surrendering to her own instincts - _fight our way out, save the pack, save the cubs_ \- and felt a wave of assent from the wolves, then, on its heels, a wave of grief and fury so strong that he killed the troll in front of him in a blind rage. Amma screamed like a woman and cleared the troll’s body in a single leap to tear the throat out of the one behind it. Arne followed her with a bubbling snarl, and Brokkolfr sprinted after the wolves, with Ulfhethinn at his side and Aurulf and Troeli just behind. He hacked a troll’s arm off before it could swing a club and parried another blow mid-stride - desperate to stay with Amma. 

There was someone else, another wolfcarl, running at his other side, guarding his flank, and he was dimly aware that a couple of other wolves and their brothers had found them in the chaos, but most of his awareness was tangled with Amma, who cleaved through the trolls like a hot knife through fresh butter. She was going for the denning room, and all her presence in the pack-sense was _the cubs, get to the cubs_ , but he couldn’t understand what she grieved… Then the last troll between them and the denning room went down with Arne still savaging it, and he saw and understood.

Yrsa was a red wolf and her fur gleamed copper in the light of the flames, where it wasn’t stained black with trellblood. She stood at bay in the denning room doorway, but between her legs were, not her cubs, but the body of her dead brother. Waves of grief and anger poured off her and the pack-sense seemed to pulse with it as she snarled, driving the trolls back by mere voice. It was alive in the pack-sense that she had killed the troll who had killed Ulfdan, and the next after that, and only the knowledge of her children behind her prevented her from clearing the doorway and killing them all, _all of them, as many as she could before they pulled her down_ … Brokkolfr fought down the lump in his throat, because he could not weep now, no, now he had to help Amma and Yrsa. This was the grief that had driven Amma across a heall thick with trolls and now he had to help _save the cubs_ before their mother died defending them as well.

Only now did he realise that Yrsa did not stand quite alone. One of the tithe boys (and it shamed him that he could not recall his name) guarded her flank, hefting a blood-stained axe that was too heavy for him ( _Ulfdan’s axe_ , the pack-sense told him), white-faced with terror and looking about to collapse, now that some sort of help had arrived. _He stayed, though - he stayed with the cubs and Yrsa, while the world went mad around him_. Brokkolfr used the lull, before the trolls realised they still only faced a handful of wolves and wolfcarls, to grab the lad by the arm and shout into his frightened face, “Get the cubs, we’re leaving!” The boy stared at him, open-mouthed and uncomprehending, and Brokkolfr hastily bundled him into the denning room. “NOW, scoop them into your jerkin, quickly…”

The boy bent, nervously, to gather up a cub - 4 weeks old, they had the pack-sense and they huddled together silently - and hesitated, saying “Will _she_ let me?”

“Tonight, she’ll let you.” Brokkolfr reached for the pack-sense - he knew very well that, at any other time, Yrsa would not have stood to let another bitch’s brother anywhere near her cubs and had only permitted the tithe boys to touch them very recently. Now, though, she and Amma were united in their grief and fury, wanting _killing trolls_ and _cubs safe_. Yrsa acknowledged Amma as first in the pack, with Hilde away, and trusted Amma to lead her and her cubs to safety. “Get them all, quickly now, then come back out. We’ll guard the door.”

He stepped back out and found that the doorway was protected by a semicircle of wolves and wolfcarls: Ulfhethinn and Arne, Aurulf and Troeli, Yrsa, his Amma and two more pairs. _Skarnolfr and Ragnar, Ulfvar and Toke_ , he felt through the pack-sense, then the tiny pack surged forward as the trolls attacked. He leapt to defend Amma - not that she needed his help, as she and Yrsa pulled a troll down between them. The trolls fell back in the face of their snarls and, for the first time since he bonded Amma as a cub - just as helpless as the ones the tithe boy was (he hoped, he prayed to Freya) bundling up behind him - Brokkolfr remembered that he was afraid of wolves as a boy. Amma and Yrsa looked like fiends out of Helheim, and had fought like it too, but then Amma turned to him and she was his gentle, beloved sister, weary now with fighting and with grief. The feeling he got from her in the pack-sense was still steely determination to _save the cubs_ , but in this brief peace he could feel the overtones of _future of the pack_ and _we will not die here_. He understood that she was thinking not of them, Brokkolfr-and-Amma, but of the Othinnsaesc threat - which would not end with these cubs. _If we can get them out_.

He said to Aurulf, “The boy’s getting the cubs.” 

Aurulf didn’t look away from the trolls, but Brokkolfr felt a slight lightening in the pack-sense. “Birgi? Good.” Now he did glance back, just a twitch of his eyes. “You and Amma should take rearguard. Troeli and I will take point with Yrsa.”

Guard the boy’s back, Aurulf meant, while he and Troeli tried to keep Yrsa safe in her grief. Brokkolfr nodded. Amma would be happiest if she could see where the cubs were - and it wasn’t as though there would be anywhere safe in this retreat. He felt a timid touch on his arm, and turned to find Birgi clutching the cubs inside his jerkin. “Well done, lad. We’re going to get out now - just stay with the wolves and keep going, whatever happens.”

The boy’s pupils were huge with fear. “I...I don’t have a hand for an axe, wolfcarl.”

Brokkolfr made himself smile, if grimly. “You won’t need it. The wolves will keep you safe. You think Yrsa will let a troll get to you when you’re carrying her cubs?” He wasn’t completely sure if that provided any reassurance, but he could feel that the boy was more afraid of the trolls than of Yrsa.

He looked round at this tiny remnant of the Othinnsaesc threat. Aurulf was adjusting his vambraces, Troeli leaning against his legs. Yrsa’s gaze was fixed on the trolls and her body shook with ceaseless growling. Ragnar and Toke stood on either side of her, but he could feel their attention on Amma in the pack-sense and their brothers’ on _him_ . He felt a sudden wave of panic and clamped down hard to keep it out of the pack-sense. _Sweet Freya, why do they trust me? I’m not Fastulfr!_

Amma’s touch carried with it the scent of _winter apples_ for the first time since this nightmare had begun. _You are my brother_. She pressed the name the wolves had given him into his mind, _fresh breeze from the sea_ , and somehow with it came courage. Brokkolfr glanced aside and caught Ulfhethinn’s eye. His shieldbrother grinned at him and he felt his touch through the pack-sense, like a friendly hand on his shoulder. _Sea salt and new grass_ , followed by _hare’s blood on snow_ , which was Arne.

Brokkolfr drew breath and jerked his head to Birgi. “We’re going to head for the side door. Just stay in the middle, follow Aurulf and Troeli.” The boy bobbed his head in a nod, and hitched the cubs higher inside his jerkin. Amma could hear their tiny squeaks of protest and he felt her resolve harden even further. He reached for her, showed her his plan in the pack-sense - the wolves and their brothers surrounding the boy carrying the cubs in the middle, a wedge to drive through the trolls to clear air. She effortlessly passed it to the other wolves and they closed ranks, almost automatically. He found himself shoulder to shoulder with Ulfhethinn again, who said softly, “Well met, brother, you didn’t think I’d let you keep all the trolls back here to yourself?” Brokkolfr almost choked with laughter, as Ulfhethinn had known he would - then he felt Amma push _go_ into the pack-sense, and Yrsa and Troeli sprang forward snarling, and they were away, cutting a path through the trolls.

He was never entirely sure how they did it, afterwards. It should not have been possible for five wolfcarls and six wolves to fight their way clear, while also defending a helpless boy, but somehow they did. He could remember swinging his axe, hewing trolls, Amma leaping to savage any he missed, keeping them all out of trell arm’s reach of Birgi, running, stumbling ahead of them. He was vaguely aware, through the pack-sense, of Ragnar and Toke doing the same on either side of Birgi. He could feel the trail of destruction Yrsa wrought ahead of them, with Troeli alongside guarding her flank. Closer than all of them, he could feel Ulfhethinn and Arne, his and Amma’s shadows at every stride, as though they were actually one creature.

Suddenly they were at the side door, then they were through it, out into the cold air and the dark, and Brokkolfr felt the whole pack glory in being free of the trap the burning wolfheall had become. Ulfhethinn gasped out, “By Othinn, brother, we’ll make it yet!” then saved his breath for running, for the trolls still followed them.

They turned and fought them off, once, again, thrice - each time winning a little more breathing space. Brokkolfr looked to the sky, which was beginning to lighten in the east, and prayed to Othinn, to Freya, to any god listening, for the dawn to come - surely the trolls wouldn’t pursue them through the light… It was late in the season, though, and full dawn was not yet - and even the wolves grew weary. Birgi could barely stay on his feet, even with Yrsa, outwardly tireless (though Amma felt her exhaustion through the pack-sense), at his side for support. Brokkolfr though dully that at least the lad was too tired to remember that he was afraid of Yrsa.

They could hear the pursuit again, and he and Ulfhethinn turned to make a stand. Aurulf and Troeli paused with them, but Brokkolfr found the strength through Amma to push the pair on emphatically in the pack-sense: _No, keep going, get the cubs as far as you can, we’ll catch up…_ The pack went on. _The important thing is_ , he thought, almost calmly, _that the pack goes on_. What was the old saying? _For the strength of the wolf is the pack_. He felt Amma’s tired and loving agreement, he felt her share that essential truth and hope with Arne - then he felt something strange settle in the pack-sense, and _Amma_ whined aloud. He glanced wildly around for the danger, then heard Ulfhethinn say, quietly, “We need to get the trolls off our trail or the pack won’t live, brother.”

He met his shieldbrother’s eyes, saw his slight smile, and felt, fully-formed in the pack-sense what he and Arne would do - for them, for the pack. “No,” he said flatly. “If anyone makes a stand, it should be me and Amma. Fastulfr left us in charge of the wolfthreat.” He crushed the thought, already rising, that he had failed Fastulfr’s trust in every way possible.

Ulfhethinn shook his head. “I know - but, Brokkolfr, you know the cubs are the future of the pack and the bitches are its strength. The pack needs Amma, and Amma needs _you._ ” He took a breath and, suddenly, horribly, Brokkolfr felt that Ulfhethinn was afraid, but even that wouldn’t stop him. “You have to go on - _because_ Fastulfr left you in charge.” He forced a grin, “Acting-wolfsprechend.”

Brokkolfr felt as though everything around him was shattering, falling away. The trolls seemed suddenly a very distant problem. Amma was whining, low and constant, her muzzle pressed into Arne’s shoulder. Her littermate licked her ear distractedly, but he was looking at his brother. Brokkolfr wanted more than anything to weep, because he knew, and Amma could feel, that Ulfhethinn was right. He whispered, “I can’t go on.”

He felt himself pulled into a rough embrace and heard Ulfhethinn whisper back, “Threatbrother, shieldbrother, Brokkolfr Ammasbrother - you can. For Othinnsaesc. For me and Arne.” Brokkolfr embraced him convulsively back. He could not trust his voice, but his and Amma’s assent was all through the pack-sense.

Ulfhethinn let go and stood back. Arne went to his side. “Go on, then. The trolls will be here in a moment. We’ll hold them as long as we can.”

Brokkolfr tried to find the words, but all he managed to say was “Ulfhethinn…”

His shieldbrother was already turning away, unlimbering his axe in readiness. “ _Go,_ brother. Run well.” He glanced back and his smile looked almost carefree, “Name one of the cubs Arne.”

Brokkolfr could not bear to go, but he knew he must. He and Amma turned and ran as hard as they could, into the forest, after the forlorn little pack that Amma could still sense ahead of them. The pack that Amma had to hold together and protect, because it was all the future of Othinnsaesc - even without Ulfhethinn and Arne. They were still running hard, so hard that Brokkolfr did not have breath to weep, when they felt Arne die. All that was left was to keep running, running into the dark...

* * *

Brokkolfr woke in the dark, panting for breath. Dark, it was dark and warm. He was not, he told himself furiously, in the woods outside Othinnsaesc, feeling his shieldbrother die in the pack-sense, he was in the dormitory at Franangford, and the sack of Othinnsaesc was many months ago, and he’d thought he was _done_ with that dream… Amma was whining softly and he felt her push her head against his chest, tucking her nose under his arm. He hugged her close and tried to hush her. _Shh, sister, I’m fine, there’s no danger, just a dream…_ Amma didn’t have nightmares, but she knew well enough when he did. He still couldn’t seem to get his breathing to slow down, which meant Amma wouldn’t stop whining. She would wake someone, which would be even worse…

A black shape loomed out of the darkness and Brokkolfr almost fell off the sleeping pallet, before he realised it was Hrafn. Amma’s whine modulated from frantic to almost pleased, as Hrafn began to lick her face in comfort. Brokkolfr made himself take a breath and hold it, while she was distracted. Maybe she would settle down, maybe he could just go back to sleep - the thought was not a pleasant one, but maybe…

“Brokkolfr?” Brokkolfr let his breath out, trying to do so slowly. Of course, they hadn’t just wakened Hrafn, but his brother as well. “Brokkolfr, are you all right?” He heard Kari take a couple of halting steps, then sit back down, shuffling slowly along the wall to sit next to him. “What’s wrong with Amma?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, Kari, we didn’t mean to wake you. I just - I was just dreaming.” Brokkolfr felt his heart speed up again, and Amma abruptly abandoned Hrafn’s attempts to wash her in order to tuck her nose back under his arm. _Sister, it was just a dream…_

“I was half awake, anyway, then I felt Hrafn get up, so you didn’t wake me.” Kari scrutinised him thoughtfully and Brokkolfr felt himself blush with embarrassment. What was he, a child, to wake the whole heall every time he had a bad dream? _It hasn’t been that bad for a while…_ Kari echoed his thoughts, “They must have been nightmares, if Amma’s still worried.”

Brokkolfr shivered and gave up any attempt to keep matters to himself. “They were. I was dreaming of - Othinnsaesc. When it fell to the trolls.” His mouth suddenly seemed very dry, but he forged on, “I don’t know why I dreamt of it tonight, I haven’t - had that dream for months.” _Haven’t smelt the smoke and the blood, haven’t heard Ulfhethinn and Arne die…_ He was breathing too quickly again and he couldn’t seem to control it.

Kari didn’t say anything at first, but sympathy and care was all through the pack-sense, so that Brokkolfr could hardly bear it. Kari eventually said, calmly, “Well, I don’t think I’m going to get to sleep for a bit, either. Shall we go and get some tea in the kitchens?”

It had to be better than staying here in the dark with his memories. Brokkolfr nodded a cautious yes, then gave Kari a hand to his feet and fetched his crutch. Kari’s ankle was healing nicely, after their adventure in the caves, but he couldn’t quite manage without the crutch yet. Their progress to the kitchens was slow, but, if they woke anyone else, their threatbrothers didn’t comment. Brokkolfr was grateful. He made Kari sit down at the kitchen table while he made the tea, partly because Kari should stay off his bad ankle and partly to give himself something to do. He could still feel the nightmare at the back of his mind. He and Amma both jumped when the kettle boiled over and his hands shook when he fetched the mugs.

Kari observed all this without comment, though Hrafn started to groom Amma again, once she’d lain back down. However, once they were both sitting with their tea, Kari gave him a direct look. “I know it doesn’t always, but would it help to talk about it?”

Brokkolfr felt like a fool. He gazed into his mug as though there might be answers written there. “I...don’t know.”

Kari shrugged. “Well, not talking about it clearly isn’t helping. You could try the opposite.”

“I thought not talking about it _was_ helping. I really haven’t dreamt about that for months.”

Kari glanced at him across the table. “Can you think why you might have started dreaming about Othinnsaesc again, then?”

“I...not really.” Brokkolfr looked down at Amma, who was now curled up with her head on Hrafn’s rump. She rolled her eyes at him. _Sharing good_. He supposed he might as well try it. “You know that… Not many of us got out. When Othinnsaesc was overrun.”

Kari nodded. “I heard you and Amma saved the latest litter.”

He could have wept at that. _I saved nothing._ “Not - just us. There were a few of us got them out - and their mother, her brother died defending them…” He wrenched his mind away from that vision of Yrsa standing over Ulfdan’s body. He would _not_ imagine himself and Amma in their place. “Anyway, we ran, but the trolls were following us, we couldn’t get clear.” He swallowed. “My shieldbrother, Ulfhethinn, was bonded to Arne, Amma’s littermate.” Amma was up again, resting her head on his knee in comfort. _Sea salt and new grass. Hare’s blood on snow._ “They stayed behind and fought. Bought us time to get away.” His heartbeat was drumming in his ears again. He didn’t need to say that Ulfhethinn and Arne had died, his grief was all over the pack-sense. “That’s what I was dreaming, just before I woke up.”

There was a silence. He couldn’t look at Kari, too afraid of what he might see in his face. _You coward, Brokkolfr, to let your shieldbrother die for you…_ He startled badly when Kari’s brown hand covered his on the table. “That was brave.”

“I know.” Brokkolfr forced the words past the lump in his throat. “Ulfhethinn was very brave.”

“I meant both of you, actually. Him for staying and you for going on. Not to mention telling me about it now.”

Brokkolfr could hardly bear it. “If I’d done better, they might not have had to stay behind.” He pulled his hand away. “I should’ve realised sooner that we had to run.” He caught his breath, but his next words came out on a sob. “More of the threat would still be alive if I hadn’t been in charge that night.” _Ulfhethinn and Arne would still be alive._ “Fastulfr shouldn’t have trusted me with the wolfthreat. Neither should Isolfr.” At the back of his mind, a spark lit and a cool, emotionless thought rose: _acting-wolfsprechend - that’s what brought back that nightmare._ It was quickly drowned by the grief and remorse.

Kari waited, but Brokkolfr had run out of words. Amma was pressed up against his legs, almost in his lap, pushing _winter apples_ to him in the pack-sense. Kari reached carefully across and replaced his hand on top of Brokkolfr’s. His grip was firm and warm. “Brokkolfr, that isn’t right. You and Amma did everything you could at Othinnsaesc, everyone knows that. You got the cubs out,” Amma lifted her head for long enough to colour the pack-sense with _protect the cubs_ , “And you kept the threat together until the Wolfmaegth made it through. No-one could have managed better, in those circumstances.”

“I know.” Brokkolfr couldn’t give the words weight, though. Everyone had told him that, so many times. Even Fastulfr had told him that. He knew, though, that anyone else would have done better. Skjaldwulf, or Vethulf, certainly Isolfr, or Kari - they would have done better, and his shieldbrother would not be dead. He tried to keep that in, but it was too late - he could almost taste grief in the pack-sense, and Amma was whining again. _Sister, shh._

Kari let go of his hand and Brokkolfr felt a stab of loss. _He understands now, he won’t want to be near me any more_. Kari’s next words were not what he expected, though. “Brokkolfr, listen to me for a moment.” He forced himself to look up and meet Kari’s eyes and was shocked to see a grief that matched his own. Almost, he put out his hand to cover Kari’s in comfort. “I was the only one who escaped Jorhus alive when the trolls came.” He paused and bit his lip, then looked steadily at Brokkolfr. “Do you believe it’s my fault that everyone I knew died and I lived?”

“No! Kari, of course not!” Brokkolfr did catch Kari’s hand at that, and Amma went to rest her head on the opposite knee from Hrafn. “No-one would ever think that…”

Kari broke in across his shocked protests, still in a very steady voice, “If you don’t think that of me, of your threatbrother, why do you think it of yourself?”

Brokkolfr fell silent, lips parted, under the eyes of his friend and both wolves. He let go of Kari’s hand, licked his lip and began, “But…”, then stopped again, unable to find words that made sense, even in his head. _But it’s different, but it was my fault, but it wasn’t yours, but…_

Kari gave a little smile, then looked away, pensive again. “I actually can’t remember that much, of the night Jorhus was overrun.” His voice shook slightly on the second phrase, and Brokkolfr abruptly took his hand again. His returned grip was obscurely heartening. “I remember fighting in the street - not that we had much that made any difference to the trolls - and I remember realising there were too many of them, and that we wouldn’t get out… There’s nothing much after that, until I woke up in the forest. I don’t know if I’m glad I can’t remember or not.” He ran his free hand over his wolf’s head on his knee. “After that, I met Hrafn.”

Brokkolfr had no idea what to say. At last he managed, in a small voice, “I didn’t know that. That you couldn’t remember.”

Kari nodded. “I know. I never told anyone before. I don’t dream about it, but sometimes I do worry that I didn’t do enough to save people at Jorhus. Maybe because I can’t remember.” He buried his fingers in Hrafn’s ruff. “The wolves have more sense - they don’t worry about things they can’t change - but it’s hard for even wolfcarls to be like wolves all the time.”

Brokkolfr could only nod, but Kari wasn’t finished. “The only thing I do know and remember is that the pack trusts me. They don’t believe I wouldn’t have tried to save everyone - or that I wouldn’t do everything in my power to do so if it ever happens again. Please the gods, it will never happen again.”

He looked down for a moment, then met Brokkolfr’s eyes fiercely. “I don’t believe that you wouldn’t have done anything and everything to save your pack at Othinnsaesc. _This_ pack doesn’t believe that of you either. They know you - you’re Brokkolfr, and you and Amma saved the future of the Othinnsaesc threat, even if you couldn’t save it for yourselves.” Brokkolfr caught his breath at that and Kari squeezed his hand hard. “Listen to your pack, threatbrother, if you can’t listen to yourself - and don’t say things to yourself that you wouldn’t let anyone say to your shieldbrothers.”

There was a silence. Brokkolfr could feel himself blushing and cursed his fair skin, but, when he dared to look up, he realised that Kari was also pink. The pack-sense was still edged with grief - his and Kari’s, he realised - but there was also something new and hopeful. _Things you wouldn’t let anyone say to your shieldbrothers._ Kari thought of him that way? He reached tentatively towards Amma and got _wood smoke and pine sap_ emphatically in response. Well, then. 

Brokkolfr did not want to think of Ulfhethinn again tonight - the space in the pack-sense was still rubbed too raw - but he couldn’t help thinking that he would have liked Kari. He wasn’t sure if he could tell himself yet that he’d done his best when Othinnsaesc fell, either - but he could listen to the wolves and trust what they told him. _Yes_ , he felt Amma agree, _strength in the pack._

He said, quietly, “Thank you for saying that. I - think I could probably get back to sleep now.”

“You’re welcome,” Kari replied, equally quietly, but there was a note of warmth in his voice. “And, good. I’ll keep telling you as long as you need to hear it.”

Brokkolfr stood and offered him a hand up from the bench. Wolves and wolfcarls walked back to the warmth of the pack.

**Author's Note:**

> I had fun with the wolves' names while writing this fic. With apologies to any Danish or other Scandinavian language speakers, this is my understanding of the meanings of the names I chose.
> 
> Arne: eagle (his scent name of _hare's blood on snow_ is meant to be a handwave towards this).  
> Hilde: fighter (adapted from Hilda).  
> Ragnar: warrior of judgement (very loose translation!).  
> Toke: Thor's helmet (diminutive of Thorkild).  
> Troeli: Thor's pledge (adapted from Troels).  
> Yrsa: wild or she-bear (Yrsa's scent name never comes up in the story, but in my mind it is _bear den in spring_ ).


End file.
